Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Emilia
Cool air hits my skin, an instant relief after the stifling heat inside. I lean back against the brick wall, closing my eyes for a moment.
I lift the glass of whiskey to my lips, the liquid burning as I swallow, and when I lower it, movement catches my eye.
A girl, not two metres away, sways against the row of houses, head lolling forward before she steadies herself against the brick.
My stomach tightens at the sight of the short blonde hair.
“Kayla?” I call, pushing off the wall. She turns, blinking at me through smudged mascara, her smile dazed.
As I reach her, she wobbles, and before I can react, she snatches the glass from my hand and throws it back, finishing the whiskey in a single gulp.
“Kayla! Hey!” I grab her arm as she sways again. “What’s wrong? Where’s Jace?”
She doesn’t answer. Her eyes dart somewhere past me, unfocused, and for the first time, I notice the trembling of her hands.
“Kayla, what’s going on?”
Her head jerks towards me, a slow, sloppy smile pulling at her lips. “What’s going on,” she slurs, “is that there’s a party.” She waves her arm towards the house behind me, nearly losing her balance. “Aren’t you partying, Emilia?”
“Kayla.” I reach for her again, trying to steady her.
“I like your outfit,” she says suddenly, voice somewhere between laughter and hysteria.
“You always were better at that. Always looked perfect.” She gestures at herself, at her white, flowy summer dress.
“For me, it wasn’t the clothes, though. That’s not why Rayden liked me.
” She leans in, eyes glassy. “It was the lingerie beneath.”
I press my lips together, heels aching as I try to keep her upright.
Kayla giggles and tilts her head back. “Black lace ones were his favourite. He used to—” She breaks off, laughter cracking into a hiccup.
“Kayla, stop.” My words are firm. “You’ve had too much.”
She shakes her head, weakly pushing against me. “And now he’s throwing us a party. With his wife,” she exclaims. “I want to party.”
“No, you don’t. Not like this. Come on, where’s Jace? Maybe he’ll—”
“He’s at work.” Her voice drops, bitterness on her tongue.
“Doesn’t matter. We’ve been arguing anyway.
” She laughs again, but it’s hollow. “The State were wrong about us two.” Her laughter dies, and her face crumples.
“We don’t have anything in common,” she whispers, teary eyes finally meeting mine.
“And… if they hadn’t married me off…” her voice shakes and she shrugs. “Then maybe I would have been there.”
“Been where, Kayla?”
“In the north of the city,” she breathes out. Her fingers coil around my forearm, grasping tightly. “Visiting my mum.”
“Kayla?”
She sobs. “They used to let me spend three nights a week with her, Mils. I’d have known if something was wrong!”
“Kayla, what do you mean? What’s wrong with your mum?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” she cries, shaking her head.
“Then where is she?”
She stops, eyes wavering before she looks up at me. “I don’t know.”
I frown.
“They don’t know. Apparently.” She chokes on a sob. “She’s missing.”
I freeze. Shit.
Her knees buckle, and before I can react, she collapses. I drop with her, catching her under the arms, her weight folding on top of me. She’s trembling, her tears hot on my shoulder, the smell of alcohol so potent that my own eyes water.
I don’t know how long we stay there. Time blurs, my hand rubbing circles on her back, shushing her softly as she sobs. Eventually, she sits up, wiping at her face with the back of her hand.
“I have to move on,” she mutters, a slur marring her words. “That’s… that’s what the State wants.”
“Kayla…”
But she’s already pushing herself upright, swaying in her pink dolly shoes. I stand, too, ready to catch her as she stumbles.
“I’m here for the party,” she snaps, waving towards the house. “It’s Rayden, Mils. Remember Rayden? It’s his party.”
“No,” I start, but she’s already turning, her knotted hair catching the light as she sways.
“Mils!”
The call cuts through the night. I glance up to see Sam stepping from the house, scanning the street until his eyes land on me. “I just wanted to check that you were really okay?”
I nod, and he frowns, walking towards me.
“I’m okay. Could you help me—”
His gaze shifts past me, over my shoulder. I whirl around just in time to see Kayla disappear down the alley between Rayden’s house and the next.
“Fuck!”
“Was that Kayla?” Sam asks, brow furrowing as he stops beside me.
“Her mum’s gone missing,” I tell him. “She’s drunk. A mess.”
He exhales, shaking his head. “Shit.”
“My thoughts exactly,” I mutter. “I’m going after her.”
“I’m coming with you,” he says. We quickly head for the alleyway, and it’s so dark that we have to take a minute for our eyes to adjust. “You don’t seem to be spending your evening with Zac,” he notes.
I shrug. “You were there. He saw some of his friends and wanted to say hello.”
“Shouldn’t he want to spend the time with you? Why did he even agree to this if he didn’t—”
“It was actually Nina’s fault.”
He baulks. “Nina?”
“Yeah,” I say. “She was trying to make me jealous, and Zac lost his rag with her.”
“Oh?”
I shrug. “He’s alright. I think we’re… civil now.”
“You deserve more than civil, Mils,” Sam says softly.
My lips purse, but I stay quiet. What does he want me to say? There’s nothing that can change what we’ve been forced into. Whether or not I deserve better than Zac is neither here nor there.
We reach the path that stretches down the back of the houses. “This is our best bet. She wants to go to the goddamn party, and you were blocking the front door.”
“Mils, don’t ignore me—”
“Don’t worry about me,” I interrupt, smiling at him in the low light. “Anyway, I’m just happy that it’s going well for you and Heid.” If it wasn’t dark, I’d swear I see him blush, just like Heidi always does. A match made in Heaven—or a post-war hellhole, anyway.
“I… Yeah. As I said earlier, she’s pretty cool, Mils.”
“I’ve been telling you that for years.”
“It was different then. She was just your… younger roommate.”
“And now, she’s your roommate.” I slide through the gate, noting that the bustle of the party has spilled into the courtyard.
I should ask him more about Molly. More than earlier, more about how he’s dealing with the first stages of moving on.
But one glance at the grin on his face, and I know it isn’t the time.
So instead, I say, “Just wait until she wants to paint your toenails; spa nights are your problem now.”
He’s laughing as I try to push through the crowd around the back door, squeezing back into the godforsaken party.
I inch through the kitchen, annoyance swelling with every second. I’m fed up with the drunken couples, the people draped over one another.
Go, the fuck, home.
I grimace as I push past another person, eyes darting every which way, Sam doing the same on my heels.
Someone stumbles into my side, hard enough to knock me off balance.
Sam catches me before shoving the guy back, faster than I can even react.
“Watch it!” he snaps. The guy stumbles, eyes glassy and drunk.
He mutters something under his breath before disappearing into the crowd.
Sam’s eyes drop to me, brow furrowed. “You good?”
I nod. As I squeeze through the doorway into the living room, I realise no one is really dancing anymore, not unless you class dry humping as dancing, everyone else lining the edge of the room instead.
Finally stepping free of the crowd, I grimace at the dark silhouette of the entangled couple in front of me.
There’s a flash, and the light switches on. I cringe at the sudden change before my eyes finally refocus on the couple that’s sprung apart.
My heart stops in my chest.
Zac and Kayla.